Glenn saw this. He had told her she was working too hard. He could see that her health was not up to the mark. When there was a cloud, or the shadow of a cloud upon her face, he saw it. She should see a doctor. He told her that repeatedly. Honest as she was, she could not bring herself to tell him that she was too poor. Already she had battled through the heat of the long summer, in need of medical assistance. She was living up to her income, and found it difficult to furnish the bare necessities and pay for just half the lessons she had counted on. There was no hope of shortening the three years except by increasing her practice. This she determined to do, six hours a day instead of three. “I believe you would stay up in that room and mold,” Glenn said one day as they walked in the sun by the river. “You surely could find time for an outing once a day for an hour or two.” He was puzzled to know why she had declined to walk with him of late. It did not occur to him that lack of time was her excuse. “You have your lessons but four days in the week,” he said. “Only two now,” she corrected him. “Then you have changed your plans!” “Yes.” “And how many hours a day do you devote to your practicing?” “Oh, several; it depends upon my humor and strength.” “I don’t think you consider the strength,” he said as he looked at her. “You are tired now, why didn’t you tell me? Sit here and rest a little before going back.” As they took a seat on the high edge of the river, there was something like a sob of exhaustion in her breath. “Oh, Esther! How could you?” seeing how faint she was. Her cheek fell in one hand. “Why didn’t you tell me you were tired?” “The air was so bracing, I kept thinking I would feel better directly. How stupid of me to give out so quickly.” His tender little cares for her comfort, in small things, had often made her ashamed and afraid she was a burden to him. “Did the doctor give you a tonic when you saw him?” “I haven’t been to him yet.” Glenn Andrews looked away across the blue water. His heart understood. He knew by her face that the coldest thing on earth was clamping at her heart. Presently he turned back to her. “How good a friend do you count me?” “The best I have in the world.” “Good enough to ask anything of me--everything?” She sat in silence, taking her hand softly away from the support of her face. “Will you answer me?” “There are some things that I would ask of nobody that lives.” Glenn slightly raised his broad shoulders and lowered them with a sigh. “I am disappointed in our friendship. It has failed.” She reflected a moment; “I don’t deserve that from you.” “Nor do I deserve what you have just put upon me.” It had struck him like a pang. The sweet sense of her faith--her dependence upon him--had been the very dearest emotion of his life. It strengthened him, to feel that she might lean hard upon him. He was not willing that the pressure should be lessened.